The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) (10 page)

An angry scowl I recognize all too well spreads across Mom’s face. The lasers in her eyes flash, though she manages to keep them in check. She grabs Xavier’s arm and pushes him down into his own chair, which starts him screaming bloody murder. His face turns bright red, and he shrieks and shrieks, threatening to burst everyone’s eardrums.

Everyone’s gaping at Mom and Xavier, even her wedding party. The best man’s eyes are wide, and he looks pretty horrified, like maybe he spoke too soon about Taylor being happy. Grandma, who’s Mom’s matron of honor, shakes her head and rolls her eyes, sharing a knowing look with Grandpa. Which I’m pretty sure means Xavier
isn’t
her favorite person in the whole world.

Not that I’m keeping track or anything.

Taylor quickly stands and takes Xavier’s hand, trying to lead him away from the banquet table. Mom’s staring at all her guests in shock, her face almost as red as Xavier’s, as if this just might be the most embarrassing moment of her life.

The most embarrassing moment of her life that I’d like to point out
was not my fault
.

I didn’t ruin her wedding.

Precious Xavier did.

Xavier’s fighting against Taylor, now kicking and screaming. One of his wild kicks hits Mom in the side, hard, and she cries out. Or at least I think she does, because it’s still hard to hear over Xavier. But the kick seems to bring her to her senses, and she gets up and helps Taylor grab their awful son and drag him out of the room, into the hall, where Xavier’s screams are at least muffled.

The silence in the reception hall is super awkward. A couple people cough. Everyone at the banquet table still looks stricken, like they can’t believe that just happened, except for my grandparents, who look like they’ve seen it all before.

There are murmurs running through the crowd, and I catch the words
embarrassing, awful
, and
ruined
, to name a few.

And then some idiot stands up and clinks his glass with his fork, and that idiot is me. And I have to admit that part of me wants to just let Mom’s wedding be ruined, because she made such a big deal about it, and because she was so sure I was going to be the one to screw it up. But letting it stay ruined just for spite would make me as bad as Xavier—well, almost—plus I want everyone here to see what a charming, amazing older son Mom has. One who is obviously way better than his replacement.

This is where I’m supposed to say something brilliant about my mom that makes everyone forget what just happened and that the wedding might be sort of ruined. Everyone’s looking at me, because I clinked my glass for a toast, and they’re waiting for me to say something.

I clear my throat. “My mom is...” I glance over at the door to the hall, where she and her “little family” ran off to deal with Xavier. “I mean, I’m her son—her
other
son that you probably don’t know about—and I just wanted to say...” To say what? Toasts are supposed to be positive, right? I’m not sure how many positive things I have to say about her. “She’s, um, she’s a great...” The word
mom
sticks in my throat. “...scientist. And, I mean, she... I lived with her, for sixteen years, and when Taylor proposed, I wasn’t very happy about it.”

Everyone is still staring at me, only now like they’re kind of worried
both
her sons are a little unstable. The best man and one of the bridesmaids look like they’re considering whether or not to stop me before I say something awful and
really
ruin the wedding. Mom must have warned them about me.

“But,” I add, “now...” Now I’m still not happy about it. And I kind of wish I’d stayed seated and kept my mouth shut. I could still be eating dinner right now instead of realizing I have nothing good to say about my own mother at her wedding. And I know I should just lie and say something nice and meaningless and get this over with, but I can’t. I can’t even think of a fake compliment for her.

I’m silent for what feels like forever, still struggling to find something to say. Then Zach stands up beside me and comes to my rescue. “But now you’re really happy for them,” he says. “Because they make such a good couple.”

“Right. And, um...”

“
And
you’ve probably never seen her so happy, right? I know I haven’t.” That gets some smiles from the audience, even though Zach’s only ever seen her today. But they don’t have to know that. “And they’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, and it’s so great that they’re going to get to be together for that.”

“Yeah. That.”

“So let’s toast.” He raises his glass. “To your mom and your new stepfather. Who are going to have lots of awesome years together.”

We clink our glasses, followed by everyone else, so that the whole reception hall fills with the sounds of tinkling glass. There are some
awws
and a
What a cute couple
, that I think are meant for me and Zach. People are smiling and eating and chatting again like nothing bad happened. There’s still some muffled whining coming from the hallway, but no one’s paying attention to it.

I slump back down in my seat at the table, realizing I’m probably the last person who should have stood up to toast them. But at least it’s over now.

Kat’s dad catches my eye, nodding once, as if to say I did the right thing.

And I think maybe, just maybe, Mom will actually be glad I came to her wedding, though I won’t be holding my breath on that one.

S
ARAH SMILES NERVOUSLY AS she stands in front of the rec room at the retirement home before her demonstration starts. She’s got several rows of chairs set up, though there are so many people from the actual retirement home here for this thing that me and Kat and Riley have to stand off to the side. Almost everyone seems to actually know Sarah, and more than one person offers her a few words of encouragement before finding a seat. I figured there would be at least an okay crowd for this, since there’s probably not that much to do around here, but I wasn’t expecting it to be standing room only.

“We’re so proud,” Kat’s grandma says, standing next to us and beaming across the room at Sarah.

Kat looks like she’s going to barf. “Proud of what? That she hasn’t murdered everyone here?”

Riley shuffles his feet and leans against the wall. “She’s never actually murdered anyone. And she doesn’t hate supervillains.” Though he looks like he kind of does, what with the way he keeps glancing over his shoulder and checking the time on his phone. If I didn’t know better, I’d think being in a room full of supervillains—ones who probably don’t have that great of control over their powers and who probably also really hate superheroes—was making him nervous.

Kat’s grandma clucks her tongue, as if Kat’s being crazy unreasonable. “Sarah’s a lovely girl. Jerry and I have spent so much time with her these past couple months, it feels like she’s part of the family.”

So much so that she even sewed her a homemade Christmas stocking, which Kat was livid about. Apparently she only makes them for family members and really close friends. Everyone in Kat’s family has a personalized stocking from her, and it’s a big deal. And now Sarah has one, too.

“And,” Kat’s grandma goes on, “I haven’t seen you around here in months. Sarah’s here several times a week.”

Kat gapes at her. She’s too stunned to speak at first. And then Sarah calls for everyone to sit down because it’s time for the demonstration, and Kat’s grandma hurries off to her saved seat.

“I have school,” Kat finally says. “I don’t even live in the city. She knows that.”

I squeeze her hand. “And you have an amazing boyfriend you can’t help wanting to spend all your free time with. It’s not your fault if other people don’t have that.”

“
Hey
,” Riley says, scowling at me.

“What? I said
other people
. I didn’t say Sarah. I don’t know why you’d assume that, unless you think you’re not an amazing boyfriend and that she doesn’t want to spend time with you.”

“Grandma kicked me out last time I was here,” Kat says. “She told me I didn’t have a good enough poker face to play with them. She said she could always tell what my cards were. It was really mean.”

“What, and she didn’t want your money?”

“She said I was making her look bad.”

To be fair, her grandma’s right—Kat doesn’t have a very good poker face. But last I checked, that wasn’t a requirement for being someone’s grandkid. Not being the illegitimate offspring of a random hookup between your superhero dad and a supervillain, on the other hand,
is
apparently a requirement, since Gordon’s parents refused to even come to Thanksgiving because I was going to be there. They didn’t say that, exactly—they made up some excuse about going to see some relatives across the country—but it’s not like we didn’t all know the reason. Well, except for Jess, since she’s three, and Alex, since he thinks I’m too awesome to ever even consider that his—I mean, “our”—grandparents might not want to see me. And even though they’re not going anywhere for Christmas, they’ve made it really clear that they’ve only got presents for Amelia, Alex, and Jess, and that they’re the only ones they want coming over for the family get-together, other than Gordon and Helen, of course. Which, I can’t help but notice, just leaves me.

“Okay,” Sarah says at the front of the room, commanding everyone’s attention. “If you look at your programs”—she holds up a bright orange flier—“you’ll see that first off, I’m going to tell you a little bit about my invention. Then I’m going to demonstrate it.”

“She made programs?” I whisper to Riley. “I thought this was only going to take a couple minutes.”

“She just wants to do a good job.”

Sarah clears her throat. “There have been problems lately with residents losing control of their superpowers.”

I notice Riley glance around, like he’s afraid someone might actually lose control right now and kill him.

“The specialized safety walls might protect others from these accidental attacks, but the person who loses control isn’t so lucky. Even if someone is immune to their own power, that’s only while they’re using it, and only if secondary effects like fire or smoke inhalation don’t get them. And if they get tired or lose consciousness, then they’re in trouble. You all remember what happened to Edna.” A knowing murmur runs through the crowd, and Sarah bows her head in a moment of silence.

Kat gives me this look while everyone’s eyes are closed and mouths
What the hell?

I shrug, since this is the first I’m hearing about it. I mouth back
Not her fault.
Probably not, anyway.

“So, to address the problem,” Sarah says, when the moment of silence is over, “I made this.” She holds up what looks like some kind of rubber sports watch. A homemade one, but still, there aren’t even any wires sticking out of it. She must really care what these people think, because she’s apparently gone all out. “It simply detects when the wearer releases any kind of superpower energy and sends out an alert to the nurses. This way, if someone has an accident, it doesn’t have to be deadly. And I made it out of the same substance used in the walls, so the device itself is superpower resistant.”

Kat bites her lip, her forehead creasing, like maybe she thinks that actually
is
a good idea and is annoyed that Sarah thought of it.

“Now for a quick demonstration,” Sarah says. “I just need a volunteer from the audience.” There’s a pause, and then several hands go up. She ignores them, jerking her head toward me. “I said, I need a
volunteer
.”

Oh, right. Me. I raise my hand.

Sarah smiles and points to me. “You. The young fellow in the blue sweatshirt.”

Young fellow? I think she’s officially been spending way too much time in this place. I start to go up to the front of the room, but Kat grabs my arm.

“Seriously? You’re volunteering for this?”

“I’m a plant,” I say out the side of my mouth, trying to keep quiet about it. Not that it really matters.

Kat apparently doesn’t care if anyone hears her, though, because she says, really loudly, “Are you crazy? She almost
killed you
with her last invention!”

Sarah’s face goes red. There’s some more muttering from the audience, and all eyes are on either her or us.

“I told you,” I start to say, “that wasn’t—”

Kat cuts me off. “It wasn’t really her. I
know
. But why can’t he do it?” She points to Riley. “He’s her boyfriend. If it’s not dangerous, then why isn’t he her test subject?”

“I need a supervillain,” Sarah says. “Renegade—er, Damien’s—power is more suited to my purpose. No one’s going to invisible themselves to death. Sorry, Riley,” she adds, as if he might be offended that his power won’t accidentally kill him.

“No problem.” He waves it off.

“See,” I tell Kat. “It’s not dangerous. It doesn’t even explode.” Well, I hope not. I still haven’t had a chance to ask her about that.

“I don’t care. You’re not doing it.” Kat hooks her arm around mine with no intent to let go. She tells Sarah, through clenched teeth, “
Find someone else.
”

Then someone in the audience says, “I’ll do it,” and makes his way to the front before anyone can protest. It’s Kat’s grandfather.

“Thanks, Jerry,” Sarah mutters, quickly glancing over at Kat, then away again.

“No,” Kat says. “Someone else can—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her grandfather says. “It’s just an alert bracelet.”

Sarah straps it to his wrist and then stands back. “Okay. Now just use your power, and it will take care of the rest. For anyone who doesn’t know,” she tells the audience, “Jerry’s ability is fire. So it’s a good one to demonstrate with, because this is exactly the kind of situation I’m worried about. Someone with a dangerous power accidentally using it and then getting trapped in their room. Everyone else would be okay, because of the safety walls, but no one would even know the person inside needed help. Not until it was too late.”

Kat’s grandpa holds up his arm, inspecting the alert bracelet or whatever it is. “What do you want me to light on fire?”